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Hereditaries

“I miss the hereditaries,” a policeman told me. “Honest, one of ‘em come up to me once and said, ‘What year is it?’

“I was born in Brighton so sometimes the lads call me ‘Inbreed’,” he went on. “So one of the hereditaries hears ‘em say it and comes over. ‘Were your parents related, then?’ he says. ‘No,’ I say. ‘Oh,’ he says, ‘mine were!’ First cousins and that. He goes, ‘I’ll have a word with that officer.’ ‘No, they was only joking,’ I say. ‘Well, they shouldn’t,’ he says. ‘My parents were related and I’m all right.’”

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